


Belly of the Beast

by ivarara



Series: Maxis [24]
Category: Warframe
Genre: gonna be chippin at this as i go!!!, if interest is shown i'll end up doing more but i just wanted to do something with lichs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-24 01:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivarara/pseuds/ivarara
Summary: Impromptu trips to the Kuva Fortress are never a good thing.
Series: Maxis [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252910
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i heckin love the lich i got first but his name is so...weird...i changed it but kept the personality. you'll see

The dropship is as rickety as always.

Not an issue for Max. She can adjust to the rumble of turbulence fairly easily, tuning out the whining of the engines and the whistling of air around the ship’s belly. Trouvaille curls up in the seat next to her, sound asleep. Occasionally, a paw twitches, or an ear flicks, as he chases imaginary prey. Caliber, Max’s Mesa Prime, sits on the other side of her. She idly takes apart a pistol, then reassembles it, getting quicker and quicker each time.

“D’you know where we’re going yet?” Max whispers to Caliber.

The Warframe shakes her head.

“Oof. I hope it’s nothin’ bad,” she frets.

Caliber rolls her head in an exaggerated display, then waves her off. _You worry too much._

“Don’t be damn rude,” Max scolds. “I’ll worry if I want.”

Caliber shrugs and goes back to her task.

Max hunkers down in the seat as she thinks. The call to deployment had been quick, and she hadn’t gathered much information before the Hounds had set out. She could always ask, but that was too easy. She wanted to figure out for herself. 

So, she eavesdrops. She’s not above that, if it’s harmless.

Buffy, Dodge and some of the other soldiers are talking mindlessly.

“What type of specialist do you think they’ll be?” One of them queries. 

“I heard they’re a real heavy unit,” Buffy comments. “Like, rivaling myself heavy.”

“That’s not much of a feat,” Dodge mutters. “You’re a lightweight.”

“What’s that, doc?”

“Nothing concerning you.”

The soldiers snicker at the banter.

A specialist? For what? A new recruit?

“Whatever they are, we have to go to the Queens’ Fortress to meet them, I guess,” Dodge derails. “That says something.”

The Kuva Fortress? Max’s gut sinks. She still feels horribly out of place there. The atmosphere is stifling, choking with strict authority and dust.

“Been a good while since I’ve been there,” Buffy grunts. “Not since…” he trails off and narrows his eyes as he thinks, “before Max, at least, and she’s been here a while.”

Trouvaille’s ear flicks at the sound of his master’s name. He groans in his sleep, stretching and then relaxing once more.

“It’s not a place for everyday soldiers,” Dodge points out. “We’re lucky to even be invited there, let alone get a recruit from such a high ranking unit.”

They’re getting a Kuva specialist? Max’s mind runs rampant with possibilities.

Caliber flicks a shard of salvage off her shoulder, sending it to the floor with a _‘tink’_. 

“You’re distracting, you know that?” Max huffs to her.

Caliber shrugs idly, perusing her non-existent fingernails daintily.

“The kid, though,” one of the soldiers interrupts their bickering. “Has she been there since--?”

“No, but it’s not an issue to worry about.” Dodge cuts them off tersely. 

Oh. That was a real stickler to think about.

Max hadn’t been to the Kuva Fortress since the events of the War Within, the turmoil of being able to choose her own actions and face her own consequences, free from the Lotus’ prying, motherly mind. Yes, Max had caused quite the commotion in her time there. Her and Hush, still naive, had infiltrated the Fortress with Teshin’s assistance, finding out about his past and the Queens’ bloodlines. Orokin Blood they were, Teshin was trapped under their control. Back when Max spoke to Teshin more often, she valued his well-being, and wanted to free him from the chains of the Queens. 

So, she had.

She had slain the Elder Queen, retrieved her Warframe and the Broken Scepter.

She had freed Teshin, proven she could pilot her own will, take care of her own self, without the Lotus.

_ Ironic, is it not? A precursor for what was to come._

Oh, Max still seethes about the betrayal. But she didn’t want to get into it.

She would likely not be welcomed warmly. She isn’t expecting it. She had slain one of the two idols the Grineer as a whole looked up to, in her blind stumblings under the Lotus. She wouldn’t be welcomed at all. Hell, she’s surprised they even considered bringing her along for this. But if Zus wants it, it will be.

“But--”

“It’s not an issue to worry about,” Dodge snaps. “Max will be with us at all times. There’ll be no mistaking that she’s benevolent this time around. The past is the past, whether people want to accept it or not.”

“You think it’s safe for her? The security systems are engrained to track for things like Tenno blood. Won’t they be constantly going off at her?”

“No. Max has been added to a list of exceptions. At worse, a scanner will stumble and refuse to grant her access. None of the sentries or turrets are going to spontaneously deploy against her, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“It wasn’t, but it was on my mind. I happen to like having her in one piece.”

Caliber makes a fawning motion, holding her hands to her cheeks and tilting her head airily.

“God, stop it,” Max shoves a hand in her face. “You’re so...over-the-top.”

Caliber nods proudly, patting her chest.

Trouvaille stirs at the fumbling, stretching each leg and then his toes lasciviously. He groans as he does, arching his back like a kavat would as he sits up and looks around blearily.

“‘Sup, sleepy boy.” The Operator leans over to ruffle his ears fondly. He groans again at the feeling, leaning into the touch eagerly.

“You three,” someone snaps to them. Trouvaille sits stock-still, Max straightens up in her seat, though Caliber continues lounging amusedly. Zus strides over to sit across from them in the galleon’s belly. “We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Things you’ve done.”

Max’s breath hitches.

“Relax. It’s nothing that serious. Just about your past...shenanigans.”

She huffs a breath of relief.

“If sources tell true, you...may or may not have confronted one of the Queens, if not both, the last time you were here. We need to make you as unintimidating as possible. We need to prove that you’ve changed your course and are loyal to their cause now.”

Oh, gods. Zus didn’t know.

Why would he? Something like that would be kept under lock and key. Hint that one of the Queens had been slaughtered would cause an uprising and upheaval of the way things are. Anger, despair, betrayal, loss...all emotions would come into play. Far too much for the Worm Queen to keep under control on her own.

“Don’t equip your amp when you enter. Stay calm. Don’t move quickly or suddenly. Keep Trouvaille,” he nods to the kubrow, “under watch. The vest is to stay on him.” He points to a vest in a heap on the floor. “That’s crucial. Your patch is stamped onto your armor. His isn’t. To them, he could be some rabid stowaway that made his way here, and you know they won’t hesitate to take care of him in typical fashion.”

Max nods, and gulps.

“Get to putting that on him. I’ll keep explaining.”

She kneels over to pick up the vest, turning to Trouvaille. The canine whines excitedly at the sight of the garment: the vest meant business for him. She begins weaving his legs through holes and strapping buckles as Zus continues.

“I’ve done my fair part in making sure the higher ups here know you’re loyal to us, now. I’ve sent reports, documents, data you’ve collected, accounts from other soldiers themselves. But, while they may grant you access, they’re not going to be polite about things.” 

“What else is new?” Max scoffs.

“Listen to me.” Zus stares at her. “These are not like your average Lancers. You cannot blow them off with the typical ‘I outrank you’ bluff.” He leans forward. “They are the same rank as us, if not above us.”

“All o’ them?” Max utters.

“Most of them,” Zus corrects. “Still, hold your tongue if you’re unsure what to do. I trust you’re able to do that, as you’re not that much of a confrontational person to start with.” He shrugs.

“I mean, yeah, but,” Max stumbles over words. “What if I’m caught alone?”

“You won’t be.” He answers firmly. “You will have Caliber and Trouvaille with you, guaranteed. I’m assigning Buffy to be your… ‘walking buddy’ for the day.” Zus huffs tiredly. “For the love of god, _don’t _get up to what you usually do with him here. I won’t be able to handle it today.”

“No, I getcha,” she assures. “Can I...ask what’s going on? Why are we here?”

“We’re receiving a new recruit,” Zus starts. “A specialized recruit, one with the Old Blood within them. They’ll prove to be a valuable asset, but they’re not replacing you.”

Inwardly, Max heaves another sigh of relief. “So, what will they be for?”

“Unsure. We still haven’t seen them.”

“Do they got a designation?”

“They’re called Kuva Lichs.”

“‘Lich’.” Max repeats to herself. “Sounds...scary.”

“They are scary.”

“That’s comforting,” she snorts.

“I don’t see why you’re worrying,” he snorts back to her. “You’ve a man-slaying canine wrapped around your finger.”

Trouvaille’s tongue lolls out of his mouth as he pants happily. One of his ears it folded inside-out. He’s drooling, slightly. He looks proud of himself in his vest.

“Yeah. Killer, slaying, hell-raising dog.”

The galleon shutters around them.

“That’s my cue to leave.” Zus pats her shoulder comfortingly. “Stay safe. I can’t guarantee I’ll be with you the entire time, but Caliber and Trouvaille and Buffy should be.” He stands and leaves.

Caliber peers at her curiously. 

“That was interesting,” Max comments as the ship rumbles, pulling into the docking bay. “Bet this’ll be even more interesting,” she tries showing off a front to cover up the way her stomach fluttered nervously. “Think they’ll be taller than you?”

Caliber would scoff, if she could. She instead waves a hand and shakes her head confidently, making the tattered ends of the bandanna tied around her head wave.

The ship jolts as it docks. The other soldiers unclasp the buckles holding them secure and rise to their feet.

Max stands as well as Trouvaille jumps down from the seat to sit pristinely next to her.

“Here goes nothin’, I guess.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Kuva Fortress has an entirely different atmosphere than the galleon.

In the galleon there had been banter and bickering, never in a strict or harsh way. Just long-term comrades doing what they do: arguing and poking fun. It felt comfortable. No pressure to act a certain way, no urge to please someone omnipresent.

In the Kuva Fortress, the word that comes to mind is totalitarianism. Strict authority, no room to err. The slightest slip-up and the poor soul vanishes mysteriously. Banners and paintings and intercoms reminding the soldiers here that they belong to the Queens. They are not an individual within the Origin System. They are a pawn for the Queens to play, and merely that.

Max shudders at the tension, palpable and thick enough to slice. Caliber feels it as well, if the way she hovers over her Operator’s shoulder is any indication. Trouvaille stays glued to Max’s side as they walk down the ramp to the asteroid base.

“Commander Zus, sir,” one of the Kuva Troopers acknowledges. They’re dressed in red variants of the field gear and camouflage other units wore. Drehkar had blue, Frontier had Green, Arid had Brown, Blackwatch had...well, Black. Even the Hounds had a different color scheme for their gear, being an infiltration squad: their gear was a dark rusty orange color, compared to the bland and plain gear of typical troops.

“At ease,” Zus replies smoothly. “You know where we’re headed?”

“Yessir. Right this way.” The trooper turns to lead them down a twisting path.

_ Thank God Zus has it together, because I’m sure I don’t._

The path is worn into the purplish dirt of the asteroid, weaving around boulders and various defense mechanisms. Turrets, sentries, scanners-- they certainly did not hold back on security here. Why would they? The two most important people to the Grineer cause resided in this base. Of course they’re going to guard it, tooth and nail. 

_ But you still slipped past. You slithered your way in, the slimy worm you are, worked your way right into the heart of this place and the cause. And you wreaked havoc the entire way._

Hush those thoughts. Focus.

The trooper leads them inside a building, towering and dark and smothering. The inside is lit an eerie red, the hue of a control center casting the blood-colored glow upon those entering.

“Cindubb,” the trooper barks. “The Commander has arrived.”

A Kuva Guardian rises from a bench to face them. “Good, good,” their deep voice bellows. Is it possible for a Guardian to speak in hushed tones? Their voices are so loud and domineering that it seems unlikely. “Pleasure to meet you, Commander. And your squadron as well.” Cindubb’s eyes scrape over the ragtag group of scavenged soldiers disdainfully. Their eyes screech to a halt on Maxis’ face.

“You’ve brought one of _them_ to this sacred place?!” Cindubb roars accusingly. “One of those _vermin_, those_ vile, writhing rats_ that seek to cut us down?”

“She has defected from her cause,” Zus responds calmly. “Maxis is no more a threat to you than we are.”

Cindubb narrows their eyes. “And how am I to take your word at that?”

“She’s been with us for nearly a year now, lacking any ‘incidents’ that would prove disloyalty. I assure you, she is loyal to us.”

The Guardian continues to glare balefully at Max, muttering something about _“lousy Tenno worms” _before turning. “This way, then. We’ll need to descend further.” Their head snaps around to one of the Kuva Troopers standing watch. “You. Keep your eye on that _thing_,” they flick a wrist at Caliber.

Caliber seethes, but Max intervenes. “Please, God, don’t. Mind your temper. Take it out on something else later.”

Caliber relents at her pleading.

The inside of the building is as dimly lit as the outside. The Guardian and soldiers follow the paths more from memory than sight, by the way they meander about. The walls are lined with thick plastic insulation, giving them the appearance of being inside the belly of a monster.

_ We are, though. In the Kuva Fortress? That’s like...number one spot in the Origin System to hit. The right person could take out the supports to an entire side of the war front._

Buffy sidles up next to her. “How you holdin’ up?”

“Fine, I guess,” Max shrugs. “This place is...tense.”

“Aye,” Buffy sighs. “It’s always been that way. I imagine it’s only gotten worse since certain events.”

Max flushes.

“Stop that, I didn’t mean you in particular,” he scolds mildly. “I meant the general realization of the Fortress’ location by the Tenno.”

“I see.”

“Still, you’re stuck with me now.” Buffy slugs her shoulder. “I’ve been told I’m on babysitting duty for now.”

“Sure,” Max scoffs. “Does Zus think I need watching over, or does he think you need something to do to keep you busy?”

“Both,” Buffy chirps.

“God, Bee, you’re somehow more tolerable than this place ever will be.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me far longer.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately.”

Caliber slugs Buffy on the shoulder back. Though he tries to dodge the blow, Caliber’s hits are pin-point accurate and never miss. She slugs him hard enough to make him stumble, and he pointedly rubs the afflicted spot. “Now, miss, that wasn’t quite nice of you.”

Caliber tilts her head cockily in challenge.

“You two are like siblings. I can’t get any peace with you two near each other,” Max laments with a grin. 

Buffy snorts back at her.

One of the Kuva Troopers pointedly interrupts. “If you’re quite done--”

Buffy whirls to face them. “Don’t you even start.” He snarls, pointing a crooked finger in their face.

The trooper recoils at the hellfire in his tone.

“Anyways, kid, we’ve unwanted interruptions,” Buffy says. “Let’s get going.”

The rest of the walk is uneventful, but far from relaxing. The tension sticks like tar to the newcomers, seemingly thickening the very air they walk through.

Cindubb takes a sharp left and halts at a doorway. “Commander, you may take a select few members into this room with you.”

“Select few” likely meant Dodge and Buffy, Max thought, being that they’re Zus’ go-to cohorts. When he points to her as well, she blinks in surprise.

“Are you--?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He deadpans. “Come along.”

Inside the room, the red glow is more prominent. Batches of Kuva lay in canisters, neatly placed and arranged for safekeeping. The red liquid seems to write and breathe within the canisters, swirling and furling in liquid clouds. 

“Commander.” Someone up in the front of the room greets formally.

“General,” Zus responds without missing a beat.

“You’ve been selected for a high honor today.” The general begins grandly. “To receive one infused with the Old Blood itself. Only a worthy commander and his squadron could earn this right.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Pretenses aside, here is the general gist of what is going to happen. You’re being granted a new, powerful recruit to your special operations squadron. As I have mentioned, this recruit is imbued with the Old Blood from the Queens themselves. Selected from countless clones, targeted for favorable qualities. They are no mere Lancer, in this case.

“These warriors are tougher than ever. Only a precise combination of attacks will bring about their downfall, and it is only through repeated trial-and-error that this can be conceived. Hopefully, the first encounter will also be the last.”

“Understandable, sir.”

“Come, then.” The general leans to the side. “Meet your new prodigy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting goes as well as expected.

The door to a separate passageway opens and there stands...someone.  


Someone tall. Bulky. Built for war, quite literally.

“Greetings, Commander,” they grit out in as welcoming a tone as they can muster.

Max is sure she’s ogling them. How can she not be? They’re built like a Rathuum player, only more...mobile?

“Greetings.” Zus is formal. “Welcome aboard the Hounds of Hell, soldier.”

“My pleasure,” the newcomer answers almost warmly.

Max is subconsciously hiding behind Caliber. Caliber, for her part, doesn’t budge. Oh, her hands probably itch to slap this fool across the face to show them where she stands on their welcoming, but she doesn’t move. Trouvaille bristles, but remains silent.

“I suppose I should introduce myself,” they start blandly. “My name is Lurgak’t Gaa. Given the Queens’ Old Blood, the Kuva itself. You’re looking at a genuine lich soldier.”

Max snorts. She can’t help it. Creating war machines is one thing; naming them seems to be the downfall of the Grineer conquest.

Lurgak’t’s eyes narrow and snap to Maxis. “What is that?” he snarls.

“She,” Zus responds calmly, “is your comrade. You will treat her as such.”

“I side with no Tenno vermin,” Lurgak’t snaps. “You’re sorely mistaken if you believe I will.”

“Simple. You do not join us, then. You fail your purpose, your task.”

The notion is clear: _you fail your task. You die._

Gaa’s face contorts in an array of emotions that flicker through his mind, but he stays quiet.

“Regardless. She is Maxis. She is our infiltration and distractions expert. She provides cover for us to get in, or just goes in herself. With her is her Mesa Prime, Caliber, and her kubrow, Trouvaille.” Zus stares at the new recruit. “You’ll treat them with respect as well.”

Lurgak’t huffs irritably.

“Additionally, there is Dodge, our combat medic,” Zus points, “and Buffy, our heavy weapons specialist.”

Dodge nods respectfully, though Buffy flicks a half-hearted salute, akin to what Max would typically do. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure to fight alongside my brothers in arms.” Lurgak’t welcomes falsely. “Genuine, real Grineer blood and flesh. How it should be.”

“Indeed,” Dodge answers gruffly, uninterested in the petty rivalry already forming. “I shall do my best to ensure the Old Blood stays within you, I suppose.”

Lurgak’t booms out a laugh. “A sense of humor, in this one!”

“Don’t get used to it,” Buffy deadpans. “He’s about as tolerable as a rock.”

Dodge glares daggers at the specialist. 

Max giggles, despite herself.

Gaa snaps to face her. “You. Silence.”

Dodge snaps to action. He grabs the shoulder fairing of Lurgak’t’s chest piece, snarling into his face. “You. Do _not_ order her around like a dog.”

Caliber holds a hand to her face dramatically._ Ooh, he’s mad._

“You will treat her with the respect you treat any of your brothers with,” Dodge growls. “She is one of us. She has already proven her loyalty to us. You have not.”

“You really take me a traitor?” Lurgak’t scoffs. “Selected from thousands upon thousands of clones, and you think I’m the defector at hand?”

“She has shown herself loyal,” Dodge repeats. “You have yet to.” He releases the fairing, huffing. “Regardless, I, for one, will always be partial.”

Gaa mutters something about _“irritable, soft-hearted fools_” as he turns away from Dodge’s scorn. 

“Well, then. Shall we part?” Zus asks broadly. “You have the rest of a squadron to greet, soldier.”

“Of course, commander,” Lurgak’t answers. “I eagerly await meeting me fellow Grineer.”

_ Gods, he doesn’t give it up, does he?_ Maxis thinks to herself. _Boo hoo, there’s a Tenno on my team._

Caliber senses her irritation. She draws a tear track down the side of her face and hangs her head sadly. 

Max giggles again. Caliber has the snark of a thousand Grineer within her, and she lets it flow freely. 

“Maxis?”

“Yessir?” Max faces Zus.

“You were saying?”

“Just talking with Caliber, sir,” she covers.

Zus probably knows already. He knows they were screwing around, and Caliber made Max laugh at something. Oh, he knows. But he remains lenient about it. “Of course.” He turns to the other three. “Let us head out, then. To the galleon.”

They file out of the room after Zus in a line. Max pads along behind Lurgak’t, remarking at the sheer bulk of the soldier. He rivals Buffy in bulk, but likely nothing more.

The trip back through the Fortress is far more easily done than at first. The Kuva Troopers salute Zus, then straighten a bit taller as Lurgak’t passes by. Respect, or intimidation? What they aspire to be, or what they fear?

They line up at the ports, waiting to board. Lurgak’t glares down at Maxis.

Max stares back up at him innocently. Caliber cracks her knuckles menacingly.

“Filthy.” He spits, before looking away.

“That’s me.” Max shrugs.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Tenno skoom, at your beck and call.”

Lurgak’t seems taken aback by the speaking. Suddenly, he roars a raucous laugh. “Hah! A sense of humor on this one. Good.”

Max is mortified by the sheer volume of his laugh, recoiling into Caliber.

“Fear not! I don’t take kindly to the slaying of my brethren, and since you’re supposedly one of us, you are safe. For now,” he adds cautiously.

“Is this...your version of warming up?” Max questions hesitantly. 

“As warm as I’ll be now, yes.”

“Oh!” Max stutters. “Then, it’s—uh, nice to meet you. Sir.”

“My friends call me Lurgak’t,” he winks.

“Lurgak’t,” Max fumbles out. “That’ll take getting used to.”

Lurgak’t laughs again. “Young Maxis, you are quite affable for a former foe! I can see us working together perfectly.”

Caliber even seems taken aback._ Is he okay? Like, mentally? Did he finally snap?_

Trouvaille purposefully plants himself between Max and the lich with pinned ears. His eyes are hardened, glaring at the other.

“And a mutt! A furry little fella, contrary to Drahks, I see.” Gaa reaches a hand out, only to be savagely snarled at. “Feisty?”

“Trouvaille!” Max scolds. She flicks one of his ears punishingly, and he shakes his head irritably. “I’m so sorry he did that.”

“Nonsense,” Lurgak’t grunts. “A new face requires growing accustomed to.”

“He still shouldn’t.”

“We’ll get him used to me, one way or another.” He looks over to Caliber. “That thing as well.”

“Don’t call her a ‘thing’,” Max snaps. 

“It has a name?”

“_Her_ name is Caliber.”

“Fitting, for a gunslinger.”

“Yeah.” Max wrings her hands nervously. “I s’pose.”

“Glad to see you two being chatty,” Buffy butts in with a grin.

“Quite tolerable, this one is!” Lurgak’t booms. “For a Tenno, you’re level-headed and easy to talk with.”

“I...can’t speak for others, but I guess those are a few redeeming qualities.”

Gaa laughs again. “So humble. We’ll make a boastful, prideful thing out of you soon.”

_ Great._ Max shudders._ So...Buffy? Loud, boastful, egotistic. She quite preferred staying quiet and on the sidelines._

“Yes, yes,” Lurgak’t continues, apparently to himself. “You are fighting alongside a genuine Grineer Kuva Lich, now. You have much to boast about.” He grins, showing jagged and discolored teeth.

“I’ll be sure to boast whenever I can,” Max smiles weakly, hoping it was convincing.

Lurgak’t slaps her shoulder in a brotherly action, though Caliber and Trouvaille tense at the movement. “Good! We will be the best of comrades, I’m sure of it. No Tenno will slip through our fingers, any we encounter will fall by out hand. We will make the Queens proud.”

_ I don’t care about the Queens,_ Max festers._ I care about Zus._

“Yeah,” she answers quietly, second thoughts arising. What about Tinleah? What if they ran into her? How would that fiasco go down? Lurgak’t seems so eager to serve that he wouldn’t listen to her protests as he annihilated Datura and Tinleah within. “Whatcha think, bud?” She distracts herself by turning to Trouvaille.

Trouvaille barks once, loud and proud. Caliber rolls her head and throws a rather unsightly gesture to the back of Lurgak’t’s head.

Max has to bite her lip to keep from snorting. “That’s the spirit.”


End file.
